


A Mysterious Plant (That Isn't The Qliphoth)

by virberos



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Lady (Devil May Cry) Cameo, Light Bondage, Mentioned Original Female Character(s) - Freeform, Milking, Other, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sex Pollen, Shameless Smut, Shower Sex, Tentacles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-15
Updated: 2020-12-16
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:36:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27568384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/virberos/pseuds/virberos
Summary: Vergil receives a mysterious plant. It’s clearly demonic, so he investigates and researches.To his relief, it’s not an offshoot of the dreaded Qliphoth. It’s something else entirely, something he finds out that evening…
Comments: 8
Kudos: 58





	1. The Mysterious Plant

**Author's Note:**

> Drusoona sent me some tasty caps. I bring forth this. Enjoy.

Vergil stared down at the violet pot in his arms, eyebrow raised at the vibrant plant within the grey dirt. It looked like a giant violet-purple bulb, the tips graced with pink. At the base were dulled thorns, more decoration than actual threat. Protruding from the bulb were light pink feelers, perhaps for catching pollen in the Underworld? He glanced up to Lady, who shrugged.

“Look, I’m  _ not _ dealing with that. Who knows what it’ll do, make another vampire tree?” She said, a pointed jab at Vergil’s past. He looked up to scowl at her before he looked back down to the plant.

“It will not. I know well enough about demonic flora to know that this...thing is not the Qliphoth.” Vergil stated plainly. Just the mere thought of the vampiric demon tree was uncomfortable, something he wished he could forget...but it was just as much a part of him as the tree’s demonic master: Urizen. 

“Ok, so if it’s not the Qliphoth, then what is it?” Lady asked, arms crossed. Vergil pressed his lips into a thin line.

“I do not know.” He admitted softly. 

“Well, whatever it is, it is your problem.” Lady said pointedly. “I would’ve liked money…”

“If this is about my brother’s debts, then you can take it up with him. Do not wrangle me in that madness.” Vergil huffed. 

“Well, you and him run the shop. Someone’s gotta pay me bac-”

“I’m leaving.” Vergil turned around and sliced into the air, opening a portal. Lady let out a grumpy huff. “You may have the pay to pay off my idiot twin’s debt.”

“Will do.” Lady chirped as Vergil stepped through the portal. Within the blink of an eye, he was in his room as the portal snapped closed behind him. He set the pot down on his desk, watching as it settled under the light of the last rays of the sun. He set the Yamato on the nearby sword rack before walking over to the bookshelf. He noticed how it was beginning to strain from the weight of his books, he would need to get another one eventually. Pulling out his books on demonic flora, he took them to the desk and began to go through them, trying to find the description that matched the plant he was now caring for. 

As the hours dragged on (with only Dante popping in to offer pizza, to which Vergil declined), Vergil found himself frustrated with the lack of information he was finding. It seemed that, through the books he was able to get through, that this plant was either a hybrid of two other demon plants or an entirely new plant. None of the demonology books he had mentioned anything about how vibrant the plant’s colors were and he had no idea what it could do. All he had was it’s looks and, with its bulbous body, there weren’t many matches. Was it benign? Was it deadly? When he was given the plant, the woman seemed as much of a healthy human as one could be so, if it was fatal, it wasn’t in it’s pollen or it’s aura. 

Vergil slammed the book shut with a frustrated sigh. It was apparently enough force to make the plant shudder, a light-purple pollen bursting forth. He frowned and cleared the air with a wave of his hand. Putting away the read books, he pulled off his coat from the warmth that was steadily rising in the room.

Wait, why was it getting warmer? Did Dante turn on the heater? It wasn’t as if they could afford a heater, given Dante’s mile-deep debt to Lady. He slowly pulled off his gloves and boots, setting them in their places and out of the way. Perhaps he just needs to rest. He takes a glance to the clock, noting the dull red glow of 10:12pm. 

Where does the time go? 

Shaking his head, he let out an irritated growl at the strands of silver that fall free from his slicked-back look. Stroking it back, he heard the sound of something shifting behind him. On instinct, he whips around, only to find the plant exactly where he had it: sitting so innocently on the desk. 

Innocent, huh?

As he shed his vest, a low heat began to simmer in his gut. He frowned as he hung up the vest in the tiny closet with his coat. This was...unusual. He couldn’t think of any reason for this familiar warmth inside him. Did Lady do anything? No, this was distinctly demonic and Lady would rather die before touching anything like that. He distinctly remembered, in the van as V, Lady spending hours in the shower after her ordeal with the artificial demon Artemis, made from a Devil Arm and now no more. The woman who gave him the plant he already dismissed from his mind due to her human biology. His eyes wandered to the plant, still sitting there innocently. 

It had to be the culprit. He had half a mind to slice it to pieces with Mirage Edge and his summoned swords. His hand twitched at the thought...and yet, he couldn’t quite bring himself to summon the blade, to strike down the plant who was doing nothing. Sure, it was demonic, but it hadn’t made an attempt on his life (yet). He wasn’t sure if it had made an attempt on the woman’s life...but it must’ve had not, given how she was still alive. 

“I have more questions than I have before.” He grumbled. He couldn’t work on getting anymore leeway into his books with this strange fuzz in his head and the distracting heat inside him. It makes him want to strip, to stroke his cock until he can’t feel anything, to wish for something inside him, the company of a toy or a strap-on or  _ anything…! _

He looked down to his pants, his arousal straining against the dark fabric. He huffs as he pulls them off, finally giving his cock room to breathe. He walks over to the door to lock it, not wanting any distractions until morning light, when his head is clearer and he can handle his idiot twin asking too many questions and gaining too little answers. Content with the lock, he lays down on his bed and closes his eyes, trying to imagine something to stroke himself too.

His mind effortlessly obliges. 

The mental image his mind comes up with is one of their fellow hunters, a beautiful but brave woman, one of Dante’s friends that he actually can tolerate. Cassandra, her name tumbles off her lips effortlessly. Her hand is so effortlessly coiled around his cock, face pressed against his shoulder and blond hair covering her beautiful dark green eyes. Her breaths come out soft and short, pants as her hand does all the work. She glances up to him, a smile on her face-

Something distinctly  _ unhuman _ pulls his hands up, coiling them together loosely. Vergil snaps his eyes open, half in a panic, when his eyes see the plant. An awkward silence falls between them as everything suddenly snaps into place, like the sheathing of Yamato: this plant was a sex plant. Of course his demonology books wouldn’t have such a plant in their pages. It only sought humans for pleasure, never to harm if it could help it. 

But would  _ he _ indulge? It’s very presence explained the heat that now suffocated the room, the slowly burning arousal that seared through his veins. He doesn’t know how much time passes as he thinks about it, wonders if he should indulge or not. Finally, he opens his eyes.

“No eggs. No young.” He says into the still air. He’s not even sure if this plant can even offer that or not but he knows the stain and hassle that they will cause if he doesn’t set his boundaries now. The plant doesn’t move for a moment before one of the tentacles gently caresses the side of his face, as if trying to comfort him. Perhaps that was it’s consent to his terms? Vergil could only presume so. “Very well.” 

He felt something hot and slick wrap around his cock, sucking expertly. He gasped from the sudden sensation, the moment taken advantage of by the plant to stuff a tentacle into his mouth. Immediately, he tastes sugar and sweetness, almost like a hard wet piece of cotton candy (although that doesn’t make sense. His body burns too much for his brain to make sense of anything). More tentacles slide along his bare body, loose like a lazy lover’s embrace with a lingering wetness that reminds him of too-brief kisses. Something about it just makes his head hazy and slow, a warm blanket over the decades-honed senses. 

It’s calming, in a lewd sense. Relaxing to a man who has been on edge for his entire life, always watching out for danger. 

Something prods at his entrance, earning a soft whine. He can only presume it’s another tentacle but it doesn’t stop the whine from escaping. The prodding tentacle is insistent, slowly grinding against his puckered entrance until it finally pushes through, with an orgasm suddenly pulled from his shaking body. It ripples through him, moans and breathy cries suffocated by the tentacle in his mouth. Despite the orgasm, the heat still burns in him, the hunger for  _ more _ .

And oh how it gave.

The haze in his mind seemed to intensify (or was he just imagining it?). The tension in his limbs was all but gone, faded like the instincts that he relied on for so long. It almost felt too good to relax, too easy to just let go, but damn if this demonic plant was making it so effortless. His body shuddered with each thrust into his (now willing) holes, arms still loosely tied above his head. How long had that wet sticky sheath over his cock sucked? Time felt like nothing from all the pleasure his body was facing, waves upon waves that he was drowning under from too-sweet too-gentle touches. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to find something, anything to ground him. Biting down just slightly on the tentacle in his mouth caused some sort of liquid to squirt into his mouth, like sickly-sweet syrup. 

And just like that, everything blends together in a rush of pleasure. 

When his senses come back to him, his body is heaving and particularly sweaty. The tentacles had long slipped back to the plant, leaving him exhausted. He slowly sat up, groaning from the ache in his arms as blood rushed back down to his fingers. A cool breeze drifts through the room from the window, he wondered if the tentacle plant opened it after it was done with him. Surprisingly, it seemed just as still and silent as when he received it. 

He flopped back down on the bed. His body ached far too much to think much on it. He would deal with it in the morning.


	2. How to Repay Your Brother's Strange Plant

“Phew! I’m beat.” The older and currently blood-soaked devil hunter panted as he stepped into the empty Devil May Cry. His brother was out of town with Cassandra, a fellow hunter and his adopted sibling (if he said so himself. Their relationship was rather familial, one of the very few he had). Those two were good for each other, she had the fire to keep him in line and his competitive edge naturally fueled her desire to improve. They were perfect for each other. As Dante walked up the stairs to head to the bathroom, he briefly caught the scent of cotton candy.

Huh. That was weird. Maybe Cassandra had brought some cotton candy dessert earlier? He’d check later as he stepped inside the bathroom and quickly stripped, throwing the bloody clothes lazily on the floor. He’d take care of them later. He turned on the shower, warm water soaking into the blood and sliding down the drain. He took a bottle of shampoo (Cassandra always made sure to give him the good stuff, the stuff that smelt like strawberries) and lathered it into his hair, his mind wandering.

Of course, he  _ could _ reward himself for a job well done with some of his favorite mags, the stuff he usually kept under the bed. His mind drifted to the ladies of Love Planet, he could always swing by, admire the working girls and tip better than the other guys who came in to oogle (he certainly didn’t have Vergil around to get on his case for wasting money on frivolous things, as he so put it, but he always had a fondness for Love Planet). Now that he was thinking about it, their newest issue did have some lovely ladies. There was a little blurb on one of the newest girls, the spicy redhead Celica, with her dressed in a skimpy fantasy priestess outfit. He was a sucker for ladies in silver but there was the classic bunny pin-up that Marie was in and he was very fond of Marie. He let out a soft hum, his cock starting to twitch at the thought of those lovely ladies. His hand slid down to stroke his hardening cock-

Then something coiled around his ankle.

“Woah!” He yelped, slipping on the wet shower floor. He would’ve landed hard on his tailbone had...something not caught him. He blinked in surprise as he was met with a crowd of bright pink tentacles coming out of the drain. He stared at the tentacle mass in confusion. “Uh...hi?” 

The tentacles awkwardly waved. Perhaps they too were just as awkward about it all as he was. Dante furrowed his brow in thought, trying to figure out how they came into his shower in the first place. The drains were remarkably cleaner than before, he realized. He looked at the tentacles with a raised eyebrow. 

“So, uh, you wouldn’t happen to be the guys who cleaned out the drains, were you?” He asked. The tentacles nodded (or at least, he presumed that they nodded) furiously. “Uh, thanks.” Dante reached out in an attempt to shake a tentacle like a hand (he had no idea how these things worked). When he grasped an outstretched tentacle, he blinked at the slightly sticky surface. Even under the warm water, now filling the bathroom with steam, it still was sticky, like cotton candy melted in his hands. He let go of the tentacle and licked the tip of his finger.

Yep. That was cotton candy alright. Or at least, cotton-candy tasting. He licked his lips. It wasn’t his preferred strawberries...but it did taste good. The sugary sweet taste had something...else to it. Something warm that spread from the contact point through his body. Dante let out a low groan as the tentacles moved to cradle his body, supporting him. A few of the tentacles slid up his legs, coiling around his thighs to gently hold them apart. One gently rubbed up and down his raging boner-

Oh. So  _ that _ was what they wanted. Well, what kind of asshole was he to  _ not _ reward them for cleaning the drains? Not that kind, thank you very much. 

The tentacle coiled around his cock, stroking it. The sensation was alien but not unpleasant. Dante groaned softly as the heat in his stomach began to intensify, the once simmering heat starting to turn into a roaring blaze. Dante whined, rolling his hips into the tentacle’s strokes of his cock. The scent of cotton candy seemed to intensify, surrounding him like the steam of the hot water. The hot pink color definitely stood out from the steam that was clouding his vision-

And then he came, arching his back and squeezing his eyes shut. His seed shot out of his cock hard, splattering all over his face. Blinking, he watched as more cum weakly dribbled out of his cock and down his pelvis. The tentacles looked (as much as they could look) before they pulled back a little. Three of them coiled around each other, making a sort of make-shift cock, before rubbing at his ass. Dante jolted and whined at how  _ slick _ it felt against him.

“Ah...shit…” Dante hissed, leaning his head back as the tentacle cock pushed into him, slowly pushing him open. He could feel each inch push into him, hot slick refueling the flames of arousal inside him. He squirmed as they continued to push until the tip hit that sweet spot inside him, causing him to gasp out. There was a pause before the tentacle cock pulled out until only the tip was inside him. He let out a needy whine before the tentacle cock surged inside him, the tip slamming right into that sweet spot. He gasped out, barely having a moment to fathom how hard that hit him before the tentacle cock was repeating that action, hitting that sweet spot again and again. Dante could only gasp, forced to enjoy the hard ride that was making him see stars. He squeezed his eyes shut, tears forming at the corners of his eyes from how much stimulation was shooting up his nerves (or was it just the hot water?). 

It was too much, he couldn’t…!

His body writhed on the shower floor, a dry orgasm pulled out of his body. The tentacles suddenly pulled back, leaving him on the shower floor. Dante only laid there, panting heavily to catch his breath as someone knocked on the bathroom door.

“Dante!” A familiar voice, his twin, met his ears. “How long have you been in there!?” 

“A...a while…” He strained to speak. Vergil was quiet before he heard a soft sigh.

“Barnaby…” With that, Dante heard his footsteps fading away. Dante shrugged, having no idea who this Barnaby person was-

Wait. Vergil got a new plant from a mission a couple weeks ago. He mentioned his name was Barnaby. Back then, he just tossed it off as his brother being a giant nerd (who had a sudden fondness for cotton candy, given how much his room smelled of the stuff) but…

“Well. Shit.” Dante muttered, reaching up to turn off the shower. He’d think harder on it after a nice nap. He slowly got up and dried himself off with a towel. He looked down at his bloody clothes and sighed. 

Ok, maybe that nap would have to wait until he actually cleaned up the bathroom. Cassandra hated bloodstains on the bathroom floor.


End file.
